They called her Rose
by GreyWardenOrigins
Summary: Thoughts of what could have been consumed her. The idea of a quick death along side her family danced around her head. They were slaughtered like animals, her fathers livestock was taken with more care. She would find revenge on the long path to becoming the hero of Ferelden. Eventually (Morrigan/fCousland)
1. chapter 1

**Chapter 1:** Rose

The scout struggled weakly against her blade, he knew his life was over and he met death with far more grace than she expected. Letting go of the clump of hair she watched his head slouch as the blood mixed with the damp earth of The Korcari Wilds. It reminded her how the crimson liquid looked staining her families castle in Highever.

"Remind me never to get injured in front of you." Alistair said, unable to hide the disgust in his voice.

"I told you we didn't have time." The recruit stated, continuing to clean her dagger while Jory attempted to keep his lunch down. The fact that this squeamish worm had made it into her fathers ranks didn't surprise her. Had he picked decent men maybe her family would still be alive. She paused at that thought, unable to let her hatred subside even as memories of a loving father danced before her.

Images of the birthday she had received Skadi, a truly fine war hound he had proved to be. Her first sword, much to her mothers dismay. Her first battle, spent close by her father and Fergus. She experienced very little action that day but she witnessed few casualties and the mark of a kind leader. Her hatred and the vivid images of Orens stiff corpse clouded these memories. She blamed her father for the slaughter of her family. He had trusted Howel, let the pig walk amongst them. She blamed Duncan, what hero of old allows innocents to be slaughtered under his very nose? Most of all she blamed herself, if she had been stronger...not distracted by elven maids she could have done something. Saved them.

She didn't save anyone, too eager to become a Grey Warden than stay and defend her family. She would make Howel pay, it was all she was living for. To sink her families blade deep into his gut and watch him beg for mercy. Sheathing her dagger she pressed deeper into the Wilds with the three men.

She understood why the Chasind called it home, thick forests gave way to flat planes and swamp. It was like something out of a tale Nan had told. Minus the impending Darkspawn invasion. The twisted creatures had knotted themselves between the trees. The four approached the first group of blighted creatures. They smelled them long before they caught their first glimpse. The smell of rotting flesh and dark magic wafted up from the underbrush and was carried on the wind like an unholy tune.

Their twisted flesh and sharp teeth was kin to the nightmares of a deranged man. She hesitated when the Hurlock charged, in truth all the recruits did. They had finally saw the blight up close in the rotting flesh of these creatures, these former men.

Alistair joined her charge, leaving Jory behind to his fears while Daveth covered them with arrows. Fear gripped her as hard as she was gripping her families sword and shield. Her blade clashed with the Hurlock, she was close enough to smell its putrid breath. The familiar dance of battle washed over her as she brought her shield high to block a blow. Even its weapons were twisted, this taint left nothing untouched.

With a curdled scream the Hurlock lifted its sword well above its head ready to break her block. Dodging to the left she sliced its back meeting only a large plate of armor. Cursing she recoiled, reading herself for the counter attack. It came in the form of an elbow to the face. Gushing, her vison blurred as she stumbled back. The Hurlock continued its assault crushing the hilt of its sword into her ribs. If she wasn't wearing chainmail the blow would have crushed her instead of knocking her on the ground. She stumbled, slipping on the damp ground. Still disoriented from the blow she had taken.

The Hurlock laughed, sure of an easy kill. It prepared for another strike lifting its sword well above its head. Exposing a crease between the thick plates of corroding metal. Without hesitating she drove her sword deep into the exposed section of flesh. Letting our a gurgled cry the Hurlock dropped its sword and slumped to his knees. Regaining her footing she pulled her sword from the mass of decaying flesh and aimed it at the space between the Hurlocks breast plate and helmet partially severing its head.

In between panting and spitting blood she managed to asses the battle ground. Alistair and Daveth had managed fine with the smaller dark spawn while Jory had been to useless to lend a hand. Alistair had congratulated her, she assumed, his words fell on ringing ears. Her head was still very much fuzzy from her encounter but there was no time for her to gather herself. They pressed deeper into the Wild.

She made sure to take caution before engaging in combat with another Hurlock. By the time they reached the tower she was bloody and bruised, unsure where her blood ended and the Darkspawns began. "The scrolls should be here somewhere." Alistair said while pick at a pile of rubble.

Somewhere was certainly a helpful direction. Spotting a broken chest behind overgrowth she decided that would be a fine place to start. Rifling through the splintered wood and debris from several Falls back she missed the approaching stranger, not noticing her until she spoke.

"Well, well, what have we here?" the woman asked, her voice silky and deep. Pleasing in the same sense that crackling bacon was. The mysterious woman continued to talk, the words jumbled in the recrutes head. She found it increasingly hard to concentrate on anything save the woman's eyes. Rich pools of amber burning like the soft coals of a fire.

"What say you, hmm? Scavenger or intruder?" The woman asked.

"Neither." For a moment she hadn't realized she was speaking. The heavy haze from her blow was still lingering. "Grey Wardens once owned this tower."

"Tis a tower no longer." She stated, circling them a way an animal does while sizing up its prey. "I have watched your progress for some time. Where do the go I wondered, why are they here?" She paused ling enough to take them all in. "And now you touch ashes none have touched for so long, why is that?"

"Don't answer her, she looks Chasind. That means others may be nearby." Alistair cautioned the group.

" So you fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?" The woman said, the curves of her lips struggling to not pull into a smile.

"Yes, swooping is bad." Alistair said, growing more hostile.

"She's a Witch of The Wilds, she'll turn us into to toads she will." Daveth said, clearly shaken and sticking to his superstitions. The woman tried her best to hold back a laugh at the audacious claim.

"A Witch of The Wilds? Such idle fancies those legends. Have you no minds of your own?" The woman asked in a tone that reminded her very much of Nan.

"You there, girls do not frighten as easily as boys. Tell me your name and I will tell you mine." She looked wild, as wild as the flowers carving themselves into the cracks of the towers rubble. She was a reminder of far away places, places that were growing impatient by a stalled answer.

"You can call me Rose." The recruit answered, a name her father had picked for her. At birth it had represented the beauty her parents had witnessed. Now all that remained of her name were the twisted thorns of a Rose Bush that didn't know when to die. Rose petals wilted as the seasons changed the thorns stayed on, twisted and bitter.

 **A/N: I suffer from pretty severe Dyslexia, so I am deeply sorry for the shit ton of spelling issues you have encountered. I also apologize for the grammar, as you can see I am not an English major. Criticism is always welcome.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:** The Tower

The Tower of Ishal proved to be far more challenging that the two Wardens had thought. Scores of Darkspawn had entrenched themselves there. Covering every floor in their filth.

By the time they had reached the fourth floor they were encased in a thick slim of Darkspawn blood and bile. Rose could hardly stand herself due to the smell, let alone the close proximity Alistair was traveling to her. They had picked up a mage and one soldier on the way into the tower. The mage was all that remained, the soldier met his end when he was carless enough to set off a fire trap. She would be picking him out of her hair for weeks.

Charging up the last flight of stairs they spotted the signal fire, lying dormant, guarded by an Orge. The beast was slow to spot them too preoccupied with eating its previous kill. Rose looked to Alistair for strategy, but from the look on his face it was clear he had never faced a lumbering giant before. The mage panicked letting off an ill aimed fireball. It cracked and fizzled into the cold stone behind the Orge.

Startled from its feast the creature slowly turned its head. Rose could see the seconds tick as the cold dead eyes set upon them. A deep below echoed through the chamber as it readied itself on its back haunches. Alistair let out a string of profanities while he readied himself. Rose could only wish for the ability to curse, her voice was frozen just like her legs. She needed to move. The Orge was readying itself for a charge. Horns down huffing into the cold night. The mage, still panicking, letting out another bolt of fire. This time it struck the Orge in the shoulder. It answered the patch of burnt skin with a charge. She needed to move.

It tore through the night with speed that no creature that large should have. Its shoulders cut through the air on a straight path for the mage, fear kept her grounded. She was going to get hit, her chainmail wouldn't help with a blow like that. Willing her feet to move as the Orge charged on, closing the distance between them in the matter of blinks. Her legs finally budge, but not by her own will.

Alistair had tackled her, they were a tangle of metal on the floor by the time the Orge hit his mark. Picking up the mage and crushing him on the ground. Over and over until his body was a disfigured pulp. The creature seemed to be too enticed by the dripping sack of flesh to remember the two Wardens.

"Shit." Alistair whispered, clearing weighing out their odds.

"Slice at its ankles." Rose ordered as she stood herself up on shaky legs. The Orge wouldn't stay occupied for long.

"Being stomped to death sounds as lovely as that." He gestured to what little remained of the mage. They circled the Orge one on each side. Reading themselves as best they could before the blighted creature took note. It did take note, unpleased by the interruption of its tenderized flesh. It prepared for another charge. Horns at the ready it flung itself at Rose, dodging to the left she managed to miss most of the blow. Catching the momentum from the end of a broad shoulder she was sent into a wall. Desperately trying to find the air that was stolen from her lungs from that impact she waited for the crushing blow. For her bones to mend with her flesh as she was beaten into the ground.

The blow never came. Alistair had listened to her, slicing at the tendon of the Orge's ankle. It let out a horrendous bellow. Trying to stand to no avail it resorted to fling its arms wildly. Almost hitting Alistair at times. It had given her enough time to push herself back up and move away from the wall. Eager to sink her blade into its rotting flesh she neglected to notice the arm the size of a tree trunk flinging towards her. She managed to block it with her shield, feeling her bone break. The sound reminded her of Skadi chewing through a cow leg. She held in a scream finding all she could do is grunt. Her breast plate was dented in, making it hard to breath let alone scream.

Alistair saw his chance jumping on the back of the Orge sinking his blade deep into its back. The beast only struggled throwing him off and reaching desperately for the sword stuck between its shoulder blades. Rose had to end it. Of they gave the Orge a chance to regain itself they were dead. It withered and fought back like the bores she had hunted along side Fergus. Treating it as bore she found its neck, unprotected. It was wounded and backed into a corner. Protecting its throat was the last thing it was worried about. With and upward thrust her sword found its mark. Sinking deep into the flesh, the sickening pop of the blade piercing its airway filled her ears. She pushed harder not wanting to take the chance that the Orge moved again.

Its blood dripped near her eyes. The acid blood stung, she pushed deeper. Finally stopping when she felt her hilt hit the base of the Orges neck. Stepping back she was relived to see a very dead Orge. Pulling her sword out of the corpse proved difficult with just one arm.

"I'll get it, light the signal fire." Alistair said between breaths. Rose placed the flint in a crack of splintered beam. Positioning that between her knees she struck it. Missing and shipping wood. This would have been easier with two arms. Living high above in a pampered tower had made her weaker than she anticipated. Training daily with her father and Fergus had not prepared her for the battles of a Grey Warden. The Orges blood had migrated to her lips, she could taste the vile thing again.

The Grey Warden ritual had been harrowing. She understood why the joining was kept a secret, she did not have time to mourn Jory and Daveth. She didn't have time to mourn her family. The blight was all encompassing, consuming time itself. She hit the flint again, this time getting spark. The oil erupted in bright flame. They had finished their job, this blight could finally be ended.

Alistair approached her sword in hand. She eagerly accepted, clutching it tight. It was all she had left of them. Read to thank him the doors burst open. Another horde of Darkspwan trampled through. She didn't have time to ready her blade before they let off their rusted arrows. Pain filled her vision as one dug through the flesh of her chest. Several more hit her legs and torso. She fell to the cold ground.

She felt her blood leaving and pooling around her. Is this how Oren felt, how mother felt when Howel's men cut them down? Terror set in when she realized this was the end, she wouldn't get the vengeance her family her family deserved. The thud of Alistair hitting the floor stirred her for just a moment. Blood covered the lower part of his face. He managed her a glance before his eyes closed.

At least in death she would get her family back, not be alone anymore. She wouldn't suffer this burden, this hatred. She would greet death with a warriors fate and the tales she would have for Oren.

 **A/N: Continued apologizes for the mistakes. Suggestions totally welcome, I will try to update often.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: The Hut**

 **A/N:This switched to Morrigans pov half way through the chapter. I apologize for the errors, enjoy.**

It was bright, not not how she picture the Makers side would look. She pictured the afterlife being a little more mud free, the Chantry obviously doesn't know everything she thought to herself. Pushing herself up was painful, it felt like she had been sawed in half. She couldn't hold in the painful gasp that slipped through her lips. Her vision blurred as the pain coursed through her body.

"Don't move anymore you fool, you'll undue all of mothers work." A voice said as hands firmly pushed her body back on the scratchy bed. Rose didn't resist, she was too weak, her eyes found the owner of the soft hands. It was the witch she had encountered before the battle. What was her name?

"I didn't expect you to wake for a few days." The dark haired woman said, her amber eyes inspecting the wounds that scattered Rose's body. "Only a few will scar." She added, placing a wool blanket back over her.

"What happened?" Rose asked, her voice scratching the sides of her throat.

"You don't remember?" The woman questioned, leaving her side to retrieve a ladle of water.

"No."

"Drink." The dark haired witch ordered as she placed the ladle to Rose's chapped lips. "Tell me, what is the last thing you remember?" Gulping down the water greedily Rose tried to remember something, anything. Her head pounded and her memories were blurry, flashing through her mind with little coherency. Flashes of Iona's clothes scattered on the floor of her chambers, Fergus bidding her a goodbye, Oren's broken body, Howel's men. It was all coming back to her, painful memories, how could she have forgotten?

"Oren…" She whispered, barraging with the Maker to stop her eyes from tearing up.

"Is that the name of your Grey Warden buffoon?" The witch asked raising her eyebrow. Grey Warden buffoon? She must mean Alistair, flashes of the battle with the Orge ran through her mind. They had been overrun in that tower.

"Where are the Grey Wardens?" She asked, panic taking hold of her body as she wrestled to get the thick blanket off of her legs.

"Stop moving!" The witch growled. Stop? How could she stop? Her whole life had been taken from her and the King promised to string Howel from the rafters after the battle. She had to find Duncan, make sure the King kept his promise. "If you don't stop moving I will be forced to keep you in bed."

"You and what army?" The witch was as light as a feather soaking wet, Rose would not be held down by a pile of hay. Sitting up and fighting through the intense pain she felt in her ribs she began to throw the thick blanket off her legs. That's when it hit her, a thick cloud of black smoke crackling with magic.

"That's cheating." Rose said, feeling her body grow heavy as she sank back into the bed. Soon her eyes grew heavy as darkness crept around her. The last fleeting image of the witches smile soon faded into nothingness.

………………… **MORRIGANS POV...**

"Is she okay?" The blonde buffoon asked. He had done nothing but sulk since he had gained consciousness. His concern for the young woman sickened Morrigan to some extent.

"I trust you've dealt with things." Flemeth stated, stoking the fire. The swamp was far too humid for a flame to stay lit on its own but her mother had never had an issue with it. The flames licked hungrily at the damp logs.

"The Warden is sleeping once more, mother." Morrigan said, taking a seat on a log near the fire. Why her mother had saved such a pathetic pair of Wardens was beyond her. Had she been the one to swoop in as a dragon she would have saved the King, at least someone would be willing to pay for his ransom. No one is going to pay for this idiots ransom or the girls. At least she was pleasant to look at, this one on the other hand.

"When will she wake up?" He asked, sulking like a street urchin that had just lost their begging spot.

"When she wont damage my handy work." Flemeth snapped, the man did not seem satisfied with that answer.

"The spell will keep her out for a few hours." Morrigan sighed.

"You used magic on her?" He howled, the man was dimwitted enough to think she wouldn't use magic. What a fool.

"Did you expect me to what, hit her over the head to knock her out?"

The man finally shut up, the silence was soothing for Morrigan. It reminded her of how quiet the forest became right before a kill. The whole forest knew what was about to happen. Stilling itself for the loss of whatever creature the wolves were stalking. The trees stood still, letting the wind whisper its goodbyes to the animal before jaws clamped down on its throat. The quiet was soothing.

"Cheer up boy, at least you are both alive." Her mother said, Morrigan recognized the false tone of soothing that dripped on ever word the old woman spoke. She used the same trick when sher lured Templars into the vast forest.

Alistair took as much comfort in the words as she had. Perhaps he was smarter than his face appeared. Still mother had saved him, them both, for a reason.

The calm silence continued, giving Morrigans mind the freedom to drift off with thoughts of the woman currently passed out on her bed. She was pretty, but more than that she was bold. Morrigan had stalked her all through The Wilds. She was different from all the people she had interacted with during her limited times outside of the hut.

She reminded Morrigan of a mirror she once stole, too pretty to belong to anyone. Especially not Morrigan, pretty things weren't meant for her. The sun started to set on the swamp and her thoughts as she was pulled back to reality.

"Our guest should be coming around soon." Flemeth said, staring deeply into the distant swamp. Morrigan scoffed and made her way back to the hut.

"Start a stew while you're in there, won't you?" Flemeth added.

Morrigan aimlessly stirred the pot of Rabbit stew waiting for the Warden to gain consciousness. Her wounds looked much better. The magic had stitched them up nicely but some would scar. The one over her left brow would star. It added character to her face.

The Warden started to stir. She opened her eyes, wild green eyes searched the hut falling on Morrigan. "Finally awake I see?"

"No thanks to you." The Warden grunted, gripping her side as she sat up.

"You would have ripped yourself in half." Morrigan chuckled setting down the large spoon and striding towards the bed.

"Would have been worth it." The Warden grumbled pulling herself out of the bed. She stood on shaky legs. "Where are the other Wardens?"

"Your friend is outside."

"And the King?"

"Dead." She clenched her fists at the news.

"…how?" She asked, anger coating her words. "We lit the beacon, how did the reinforcements not push back the horde?"

"They quit the battle field." Morrigan got no reaction from the Warden, she was more angered by the kings death than anything. The woman looked defeated.

"And your mother saved us….why?" She asked pulling on a tunic.

"I haven't the faintest idea, I would have saved the King. Royalty brings in a much higher ransom pay off."

The Warden scoffed and threw on her pants. "Guess you're in luck."

"Oh, and why is that?" Morrigan asked, perplexed by the womans odd behavior. She never got an answer to her question. Rose headed for the door.

"Thank you, Morrigan." She said as she exited the hut. Morrigan smiled to herself, she liked the way her name sounded on the Wardens lips. Still once she was gone life could get back to normal. She missed spending her nights running wild in the forest.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:** Lothering

 **A/N: Just a short chapter, I apologize for the mistakes. Im thinking about having the story alternate between Morrigan's pov and Rose's pov. What do you guys think? Suggestions and criticism always welcome.**

Lothering was not what Rose would call a town, a town in her definition had more than one shop. Still it was very nice to be out of the swamp, her shoes would never rid themselves of the filth of that place. How something so wretched produced someone like Morrigan was a mystery.

"Look up ahead, highwaymen no doubt." Alistair said gesturing to a group of shady men camped out on the bridge. This was the last thing Rose wanted to deal with.

She need mead, a lot of it, and a bath. For the love of the Maker she smelled dreadful. The vile stench of Darkspawn blood did not compliment her.

"No entrance without first paying the toll." A bucktoothed man said, aimlessly flipping a dagger between his fingers. His greasy hair clung to his dirty face.

"Toll you say?" Morrigan asked, clearly unimpressed with the mans ruse.

"Aye strumpet, a toll." He said eyeing the witch like a piece of meat. "You folks wouldn't want to cheat the good folks of Lothering, now would you?"

"The good people of Lothering." Rose laughed, her nerves had reached the end of a very small rope.

"I will give you five seconds to stand aside or I will gut you like the fish that's stuck between your teeth." She snarled.

"Now, now, Miss it's only five…" The man gargled, unable to finish his sentence with his throat sliced open. The blood pooled on the floor as the man crumpled to his knees.

"Anyone else?" Rose challenged as the remaining men fled the bridge. Alistair stiffened, after the day she had spent with him in the wilds she knew he didn't have the stomach to make calls like this. At some point he would have to grow up during their journey or they would die. She let it be for now, they still had a long way to go and she was weary.

"Treated as bandits aught to be." Morrigan stated, her words were cold but Rose took comfort in them.

"I need a hot meal." Rose gestured to the Inn, hopefully the food they served didn't match the appearance of the Inn. She had no intention to eat mud porridge.

"Where are we going?" Alistair asked, his gaze far off.

"…To the Inn, its just a over there." Rose said, continuing to walk.

"No…where are we going? What are we doing, have you even looked at the treaties?"

"For the senior Grey Warden you do need orders quite often." Morrigan said, a taunting smile crossing over her elegant lips.

"Just shut up Morrigan!" Alistair erupted, all the anger he held back in their hike out of The Wilds was behind the statement. His fist were clenched and his breathing shaky, the witch had pushed him too far this time.

"Both of you enough." Rose commanded placing a hand on Skadi's head, even her hound was getting worked up.

"We are going to that Inn, I am getting food and drink. A hot bath if possible, then I am sleeping and you two will shut the hell up. When that is all over we will discuss our next move." Alistair seemed less than satisfied with that answer but gave no objections, keeping his eyes to the front and heading to the Inn.

Morrigan on the other hand simply smiled and tailed behind the Warden. The woman was driving Rose insane. Constantly pushing Alistairs buttons, thank the Maker she was at least more sensible than the young man. Just maybe she could pull this off, the weight of Ferelden was a heavy burden for her tired shoulders.

She would have given anything for her fathers advice right about now. Thanks to Howe and his men her family was rotting in unmarked graves. She would have to do this without the wisdom of her father.

She reached the door of the Inn, with a heavy sigh and some protest from her shoulder she flung it open. Crossing over the threshold into a mead stained room.

"What have we here?" A gruff voice asked, Rose couldn't make out who it came from. Her eyes were still adjusting to the dim room.

"Didn't we spend all day asking about a woman of this description?" the voice asked again, her eyes finally adjusting. It was three men all clad in Logains armor.

"Aye we did captain." A heavy set man answered. Rose could smell the cheap mead and the rot from his teeth. She curled her lips up at the pair.

"Logain is going to promote us when we show up with their heads."

"Now there is no need for violence." A red headed sister said, walking into the middle of the conversation. The Makers devout trusted too highly that the Maker would keep them from being struck down. The woman didn't have a stitch of armor, just thin robes. After a brief tryst with Mallol Rose knew just how thin the robes were. They would offer this foolish sister little protection against the blows of these soon to be dead men.

"I appreciate what you're trying to do sister, but move." Rose said firmly, for the moment there was a silent agreement between the two parties. The sister wouldn't be killed, yet. The sister looked like she was about to protest and Logains men had had enough. One swung down on top of Rose and the Chantry Sister. Rose brought her shield up as the Sister side stepped pulling out a pair of daggers.

Rose used her shield to bash the man in the face. The other men seemed to listen to this one so if she could get him down the others would soon follow. The hilt of her sword followed close behind her shield, striking the man in the gut. He fell to his knees and she brought the sword up to finish him.

"Wait!" He pleaded, he sounded so pathetic in Rose's ears. Had her parents begged, no of course not. "Please, we'll do whatever you want."

"See you can end this without further bloodshed." The Sister said, looking pleased with herself. Rose sighed bringing her sword down hard on the mans head. It cracked open like a ripe melon, the other two men fell quickly.

"They didn't deserve to live." Rose said, grabbing a nearby rag to clean off her fathers blade.

"Who are we to decide that?" The Sister asked, when she got no reaction from Rose she continued.

"My name is Leliana."

"Leliana…" Rose started only to get cut off by Alistair.

"Thank you for helping, you can call me Alistair." He was a complete fool, it would have sickened her if she wasn't so happy that she didn't have to engage in further chitchat.

"Yes, well I want to join you. You are Grey Wardens?"

"Why do you want to join us?" Rose asked, sheathing her weapon.

"The Maker sent me a vision telling me to join you on your mission to defeat the blight." Leliana stated, unapologetic for how crazy her words sounded. The group was quiet, Alistair was shocked and Morrigan continued to look smug.

"Fine." Rose sighed, they could use all the bodies they could get. Crazy ones included.

"Yes but…wait really? That was easier than I thought." The red head mused.

"You must have hit your head harder than I though." Morrigan mumbled rolling her amber eyes.


	5. chapter 5

**Chapter 5:** Camp

 **A/N: Just another short chapter, enjoy.**

Morrigan fastened the last side of her tent firmly to a wooden post. Leaving Lothering was a hassle. Rose insisted on bringing the deranged Bard, mothers magic must not work well on head injuries. She continued to set up camp, prepping her fire, there was no way she would be eating Alistair's charred stew tonight. At least the stop in Lothering had gained them the support of a Qunari. Morrigan admired the tall brute, he was quiet and did not bother her. If only the mange ridden Mabari could follow his example. The beast had been sniffing around her pack all afternoon.

She secretly regretted not grabbing a herb that would make the animal have an upset stomach. At least then he would learn not to get into others belongings, though that action might get her crucified by Rose. She did adore the lumbering bag of fleas.

With a heavy sigh Morrigan admired her handy work, she had never been required to set up a tent before. It was sagging in the middle but she was satisfied. When she wished to spend a night under the stars she did so in the form of a wolf. The night smelled much nicer outside of her human form. Some part of her missed dashing between the trees, smelling life long before she laid eyes upon it. She missed the intense wild feeling of having paws that sunk into the earth.

"Would you like some help?" Rose's voice was irritatingly close. She had built her tent away from the others for seclusion and the Warden was interrupting that.

"Do you not have eyes, Warden? My tent stands and my fire glows. What could I possibly need help with?" Morrigan snapped, she didn't shy away from the harshness that slipped out of her voice. The Warden was intruding, and soon she would discover there was no real use for a swamp witch. Then Morrigan would be free to continue on with her life in peace and seclusion.

"Your tent is sagging." The Warden gestured. As if Morrigan had missed that, only a fool as dense as Alistair could have missed that. Morrigan grumbled angrily. She had done the best she could how dare the Warden question her tent making abilities.

"Haven't you something better to do, like kill Darkspawn?" Morrigan hissed.

"I don't see any Darkspawn here." Rose said, eyes never drifting from Morrigan. It made her uncomfortable, like those green eyes could see through the thick coat she had put on to protect herself of insecurities. She knew Morrigan was scared, terrified of being forgotten. Proven unworthy for even the simplest of tasks like setting up a tent.

"Have it your way." Morrigan said unwilling to stand in the same area with the Warden a moment longer. She took off toward the thick wood leaving the Warden to her own devices. The tent had upset her and she needed to run. When she was sure she was far enough from camp to be both out of eye and earshot she took her robes off.

The midnight breeze felt comforting against her skin, it had been far too long since her last run. The crackle of magic danced around her. Buzzing in her ears and charging the air around her. Her hair stood up on the back of her neck until soon it wasn't her hair anymore. The thick coat laid comfortably over her bones, paws sprouted and dug into the cold earth. She could see and hear the forest the way it was intended to be.

Smell the fresh dew on the leaves and hear the bark crush under the weight of a large owl. She was free, she dashed off into the night cutting close to trees and lurking in the thick underbrush. These were not her woods, the smells were not familiar. The sounds of foreign creatures filled her ears, it was exciting.

She spotted a fawn in the distance still young enough to have spots and awkwardly long legs. She watched it from a well covered spot underneath a thick tree. 'Where is your mother.' She thought to herself, scanning the nearby brush until she spotted the kraining neck of its mother.

She watched the fawn for a while longer, there was no denying the world was far more beautiful through a child's eyes. A moth slowly descended onto the nose of the fawn and for a moment the world was still. Large eyes watched intently as the moth fluttered its illuminated wings. She could see the wonder in the small fawns face even from this distance. It was mesmerizing and humbling all at the same time. When had she lost that enjoyment of life? Perhaps she was never born with it.

It wouldn't surprise her if the offspring of Flemeth lacked the ability to have such raw emotion. She resented the old woman for making her the twisted woman she was today. Intentions as varied as Fereldens leaves during the fall months. To some extent it was Morrigans own fault, she could have left long ago. Ventured out into the world and discovered what a human was meant to be. Still she had made the choice to remain home, remain as wild as the swamps.

The Fawns mother had spotted Morrigan, she dashed off into the night the small fawn hot on her heels. Had Morrigan been in human form she would have smiled, the fawn had put her on ease. She continued on circling back towards camp. She had been gone long enough to justify the rest of the group sleeping. She returned to the sight of her robes and prepped her body for the change. It wasn't painful, she had heard the change caused great pain in humans inflicted with a beast curse. For her it was a simple shift, bones did not have to morph, claws did not have to retract. It was the simple ease of magic.

Being human once more made her feel somewhat vulnerable, this was normal after a change. She sighed and threw her robes back on. The walk to camp was short, in truth she thought about leaving. The Wardens didn't need her and she didn't belong here. Fereldens blight would never reach her swamp. She could easily turn back and live a solitary life in The Wilds. But she had much to prove to her mother so she kept going. One foot in front of the other until she reached camp.

Sten's snoring could be heard before she saw the light of the main fire. Perhaps she should have slept in the woods. At least then she would have gotten sleep. Rose was keeping watch, circling the camp with her trusted flea bag. He looked tired but still kept following his master, at least he was devoted.

Her tent had been fixed it was no longer sagging. She inspected it seeing the pegs spread wider. It was rather obvious with the lines drawn in the ground that Rose was showing her to place the pegs further out. Morrigan smiled to herself, maybe the Warden wasn't all that bad.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Into the Fade

A/N: I have hit a bit of a writers block and while I am actively working through it I am not sure when I will update this story again. Suggestions and criticism highly recommended at this point. Enjoy.

They had more or less agreed on starting with The Circle of Magi, well everyone save Alistair. Rose understood his need to see his uncle had she the choice she would abandon this quest and run to Fergus. But she had made a promise to her father, to Oren, Howe would meet his end. Uniting the lands just happened to help her cause.

  
  


The young Warden was free to take his own path, Rose would not keep him here against his will. Yet he stayed out of his sense of duty to a dead order. It would have been admirable if she had cared.

  
  


The five of them approached the tower. It was massive and scarred the land. It looked so out of place stuck in the middle of a lake. The walls had a shine to them even in the moonlight but there was no mistaking the fact that this was a prison.

  
  


"I don't think I can go on." Sten admitted, shame ringing through his voice. Rose did not blame the large man, she was not looking forward to dealing with whatever shut the tower down.

  
  


"Good, you and Skadi guard the dock. Nothing in or out." She stated, giving the large man a purpose seemed to put him at ease. She would have to make due with Alistair, Leliana and Morrigan. She silently hopped that would be enough.

  
  


They crossed the lake in silence. Leliana's eyes gleamed with wonder as she gazed up at the tower it was nice to see something other than determination on her face. They had not done much interacting since Lothering Alistair seemed to spend a great deal of time with her. What little they had spoke of consisted mainly of her divine vision and tales.

  
  


Alastair looked less than pleased with the direction the boat was heading. He had given up being a Templar long ago but magic still had him on edge. At the very least he wasn't trying to kill Morrigan. She would take whatever small victories were placed in her path.

  
  


Morrigan, well she was having trouble reading Morrigan. Anger and discomfort maybe. She was unsure but the womans brow was pinched and she was in deep concentration. She was beautiful and if things had been different Rose would actively pursue her. Alas her life as well as her heart was in no shape for whatever this was.

  
  


Still it was nice to wonder what it would feel like to place a trail of kisses from the dark haired womans neck down to her stomach. Her less than pure thoughts ended when the boat struck against the dock of the tower. She sighed, the fighting never ended She wasn't sure she wanted it to. How would she ever go back to normal life after this.

…………………………………………..............

  
  


The thick doors closed behind them, the tower was in shambles. Blood splatter covered much of the wall and floor of the corridor. The Abomination's work she guessed, she didn't even know what an Abomination was. By the looks of the bodies that were crumpled on the floor she would know one when she saw it.

  
  


They continued down the corridor, her companions were silent. She did not blame them. The state of the tower and smell of magic did not welcome conversation.

  
  


The corridor abruptly ended giving way to an open room. Blue light encompassed every inch of the space. The young mage children scurried behind their elders upon seeing Rose and her companions.

  
  


Before she was able to get a word out a staff was placed in her face. "I will defend them with my life." The mage that was holding the staff said, she was much too calm for Rose's liking.

  
  


"Wait…I know you." The mage said lowering her Staff. The white hair was familiar to Rose. She had talked to this woman when she first arrived at Ostagar.

  
  


"Wynne?"

  
  


"You were at Ostagar, what are you doing here?" She asked, there was no mistaking the cation in her voice.

  
  


"We came for the treaties. We don't mean you any harm." Rose reassured the white haired woman.

  
  


"Of course the Grey Warden treaties…as you can see we are in no position to help. But if you help me get to Irving your treaties will be honored."

  
  


"Yes lets save the leashed mages." Morrigan grumbled.

  
  


"If circumstances were different this would be you." Rose snapped, she didn't have time to deal with this. She needed the mages and cutting down children was not an option for her. She was not one of Howes men.

  
  


"We will help you." Rose added, Morrigan had grown quiet. The group continued on deeper into the tower. Things were a bit hazy for Rose. Shapes were blurry and her eyelids were heavy but there was no missing the vivid detail of the Abominations that seemed to creep out of the stone walls.

  
  


The burnt flesh of the mage leaked through the grotesque deformities of the creatures. It pained them to walk, howling with each step they charged the group over and over again. Using sharp claws to attempt to tear them limb from limb. Rose and her followers fought on. Cutting down Abominations at every turn.

  
  


They climbed level after level of the tower. The Abominations never dwindled. How many mages had met this fate, willingly or not? It sickened her, cutting them down was a blessing. The haze of the tower continued to eat away at her. She grew more weary with every step she took.

  
  


They approached a large chamber, walking to the door nearly put her to sleep. She continued to press on pulling the door open weakly only to meet face to face with a creature out of her very nightmares.

  
  


"Ah fresh toys." It mused, its voice creeping its way under her skin and chilling her bones.

  
  


"Die demon!" She heard Wynne shout.

  
  


"Shhh." It cooed, her reality slowly slipping out from under her.

………………………………………………………

  
  


Her head pounded so much so that she was having trouble opening her eyes. She really needed to lay off the drinks, the hangover was really not worth it. Her eyes eventually opened the pounding in her head continued. At least she had managed to make it into her bed last night.

She trough on a silt tunic and some pants and made her way out of her chambers. She was greeted by the familiar giggles of little Oren.

  
  


"Auntie." He shrieked running up to give her a hug. She embraced the young boy a tear escaping her eye and falling down her cheek. The young boy pulled away.

  
  


"Are you not happy to see me, Auntie?" He asked puzzled by her strange reaction.

  
  


"I couldn't be happier to see you little man." She said trying to sound as reassuring as possible. Why was she crying? Why did she feel this overwhelming sense of dread? No more drinking for a while.

  
  


"Will you teach me how to use a sword, Auntie?"

  
  


"Of cour…" She began only to be interrupted by Oriana.

  
  


"Oren you know how your father and I feel about you playing with swords. Now run along." The boy obeyed and ran off down the hall.

  
  


"Don't encourage the boy, the last thing I need is to deal with both my son and your brother ripping up tapestries." She sighed.

  
  


"Of course." Rose laughed, she had always liked the Antivan woman. She was good for Fergus. Oren had been a blessing for the family. Rose continued out of hallway and into the court yard she was greeted by an overly excited Skadi.

  
  


"Don't pester Nan today." She said, lightly scolding the giant mound of fur and slobber. He barked agreeable before taking off. That dog had put her at odds with Nan on more than one occasion but she wouldn't trade him for the world.

  
  


She continued to make her way through the courtyard, perhaps she would go on a hunt today. The weather was favorable and she was rarely given the chance to spend any quality time her steed, Gregor. She had purchased him from a shady man in the Denerim market place a few years back. He was being sold as an oddity due to his misshapen ears.

  
  


They were funny to look at but they did nothing to impede his performance as a hunting mount. In truth she bought him for the color of his coat more than anything. He was a burnt copper color, falling somewhere between a buckskin and a corroded red. He was magnificent to look at. A hunt was sounding like an excellent way to spend her evening. She just had to make it out of the castle without being spotted by her mother.

  
  


"Rose, darling." Came the familiar call of her mothers voice, she had company. She only took that tone when she wasn't alone with close family.

  
  


"Yes mother?" Rose said, pivoting around to face the matriarch of the family.

  
  


"Lady Landra has stopped by for a visit."

  
  


"It's wonderful to see you again, Lady Landra." Landra smiled and greeted Rose with a small curtsy.

  
  


"I believe Iona is somewhere in the castle walls." Landa said, a knowing smile crossing her weathered face.

  
  


"Be back in time for dinner, darling." Her mother added, leaving her to her own devices. It wasn't a well kept secret that the daughter of the mighty Bryce Cousland favored women. It had taken her mother some time to adjust and in truth she preferred never speaking about it. If she didn't talk about it maybe her daughter would give up on this 'phase' in her life.

  
  


Rose mostly kept herself out of trouble so her mother didn't give her much grief on the subject. She continued through the courtyard. Perhaps on her way back from her afternoon hunt she would pay Iona a visit. Their last night together had been a rather enjoyable one.

  
  


She continued through the castle stopping at the armory to retrieve her bow. After Oren had got a hold of her arrows and killed the Dire Bunny pillows she decided to keep her bow and quiver well out of reach. Oriana was not impressed by the vast amount of goose down that covered their chambers. She laughed to herself.

  
  


"Would you like some company, Pup?" Her father asked joining her in the armory. It was like she hadn't seen him in ages she couldn't resist pulling him into a hug.

  
  


"Its only been one night since you last saw me, Pup." He chuckled ruffling her hair like he had done when she was a child.

  
  


"Now lets go hunt before your mother notices I'm missing." He said with another chuckle. He lead them to the stables where they both saddled up. It was an odd sensation seeing him again, it almost felt like a dream but Rose didn't question it. They rode off into the forest surrounding Highever. It was a perfect hunting ground.

They began their hunt on the south slope over looking the dense brush. They didn't need to talk, they had done this since Rose was able to hold a bow. Her father dashed down toward the thick patch of forest. Rose nudged Gregor and they set off planning to circle and see what game was flushed out.

  
  


It felt good to be back in the saddle. She had missed Gregor. It was difficult to find the time to ride him and maintain Highever. She was glad her father and Fergus were back from battle. She didn't enjoy being a leader. Gregor tore around the patch of forest stopping and nearly throwing Rose off when a stag burst out into the open.

  
  


Rose set chase pushing Gregor to go faster. The stag had them by yards, she could make the shot from here but she enjoyed the chase. They continued after him for a good while. She was growing tired of the chase. She lined up her shot and let an arrow fly. It cut through the air and found its target. The stag dropped, the arrow had shot through his ribs right behind his shoulder. He hadn't suffered before hitting the ground.

  
  


She turned Gregors strides into a quick gallop. Arriving at the spot where the stag dropped quickly. She marveled at the creature that now lie dead on the grass. She took little pleasure in killing but it was a family sport. She heard her father approaching he would admire her handy work and the size of the stag. She turned to greet him.

  
  


"Lets see what you got." He said dismounting. She turned back around to show him pointing to a now empty patch of grass.

  
  


"He was right here." She said, unfamiliar with the sensation that coursed through her body. Was it dread?

  
  


"The sun plays tricks on the best of us, Pup. Lets return before your mother sends out a party." Rose complied mounting her horse and heading back to Highever. The stag had been there, she had shot it. Maybe her hangover was worse than she thought.

  
  


She continued on after her father deep in thought. She barely realized when they had reached the stables. She dismounted and handed Gregor to one of the stable boys before entering Highever. There was only one thing that could cure a day like this, some mead. She made her way to the kitchens.

  
  


"Oh, Hello Lady Cousland." Rose was greeted by Ionas warm smile. Just what she needed.

  
  


"Don't go getting any ideas, Dinner isnt for another hour." Nan said sternly as she stirred a large pot of stew.

  
  


"I'm just here for Iona, honest." Rose said trying to reassure the grumpy cook. Nan had been like a mother to her when she was growing up. Nan let out a heavy sigh taking stock of her kitchen staff.

  
  


"Go." She said ushering Iona out of the kitchen. She hastily took her apron off and joined Rose outside of the kitchen.

  
  


"You look great." Rose said admiring the way the womans hair fell around her delicate face.

  
  


"I've been working over a hot stove all day." Iona chuckled and shook her head.

  
  


"You smell good too, like cookies." Rose said with a chuckle.

  
  


"You are terrible, Lady Cousland." Iona said with a chuckle.

  
  


"Come, I need a bath before I attend dinner." Rose followed close behind the lady in waiting watching her hips sway with every step.

  
  


"How have you been, Iona?"

  
  


"I have been well."

  
  


"And your daughter?" Iona smiled at the question.

  
  


"She is doing very well."

  
  


"That is good, I would like to meet her someday. Bring her to the castle, I'm sure she would make fast friends with Oren."

  
  


"I am sure she would like that." Iona smiled finally reaching her quarters.

  
  


"Will I see you tonight?" Rose asked, tucking a stray hair behind her pointed ear.

  
  


"Your quarters?" Iona asked, gripping onto Roses hand.

  
  


"Can't wait." Rose said sealing the deal with a kiss before she left Iona to get ready the evening. She returned to the court yard bumping into Oren and Oriana. He had managed to convince her to dual him with wooden swords. Rose laughed at the sight.

  
  


"In Antiva women don't fight." She huffed.

  
  


"Clearly." Rose laughed.

  
  


"Play with the boy so I can get ready for this evening."

  
  


"But what about my strict beauty regiment dear sister?"

  
  


"Play with the boy." Oriana ordered shaking her head at the pair.

  
  


"You heard her, Oren." Rose said picking up the discarded wooden sword.

  
  


"Take that Auntie!" Oren yelled lunging at Rose. This continued until Oren was tired out. He plopped down on the grass.

  
  


"How did you become such a good fighter, Auntie?"

  
  


"Practice, a lot of practice." Rose smiled and the flushed boy.

  
  


"I bet you could kill lots of demons and scary things." He said flinging his arms in the air. In what Rose guessed was his attempt to strike down some invisible foe.

  
  


"Come on, Oren dinner has probably started."

  
  


"Mother never lets me go to dinner in this." He gestured to his outfit.

  
  


"Well she left you with me." Rose smiled, urging the boy to accompany her to dinner. They made their way through the courtyard she spotted a familiar face in the distance. Dark hair pulled up into an elegant bun. She didn't belong here but Rose knew her.

  
  


"Who is she?" Oren asked tensing his grip.

  
  


"I don't like her!" He cried as Rose walked closer to the woman.

  
  


"Please don't leave." The boy pleaded.

  
  


"Im just going to go say hi, Oren. There is no need to fuss." She said with a smile leading Oren Towards the woman. The woman greeted her with a smile, her amber eyes were so familiar to Rose.

  
  


"Where are you?" She asked, her voice danced across the courtyard like a tune carried on a harp.

  
  


"Highever…are you lost?" Rose asked.

  
  


"I'm afraid you are the one that's lost, Rose." The woman said with a sad look on her face. Rose was puzzled by the statement. How could she be lost in Highever? She knew this place better than the back of her hand.

  
  


"Think, Rose. What happened with the Grey Wardens, Ostagar?" Rose was utterly confused, she had never seen Ostagar. She had never been trapped in the tower waiting for reinforcements. She hadn't participated in a dark ritual. Her family….her family was never slaughtered by Rendon Howe.

  
  


Oh by the gods she felt her knees grow week. Her family was dead, she was trapped in the tower by a demon.

  
  


"I don't like her Auntie. Get rid of her." The creature holding her wrist said. It was no longer Oren. It had morphed, became something else entirely. It was unholy, its voice chilled her as she gripped her sword and plunged it deep into the creatures chest.

  
  


"Why Auntie?" It gurgled, sinking into the floor leaving behind the mangled body of Oren to taunt her. Rose fell to her knees. Unable to keep the tears from flowing down her cheeks in streams.

  
  


"I'm so sorry Oren." She cried, picking up his broken body and cradling it to her chest. The tears would not stop flowing down her face.

  
  


"We must go." Morrigan said placing a hand on her shoulder. The witch was right, she had to keep fighting but she wished the demon had taken her with it. Ended her suffering for good. She wasn't sure she had the strength to carry on. To do what she had to in order to save Ferelden and kill Howe.

  
  


She stood on shaky legs leaving Oren on the ground. He was long dead but his face still haunted her. The cold eyes of the dead child followed her as Morrigan lead her out of the fade.

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry for never updating, between writters block and work I haven't had the time. Suggestions and of course criticism are always welcome.**

Morrigan walked into the thick forest that surrounded the camp. The trees gnarled and the floor grew thick with decaying leaves. The rot of the woods was a familiar sight, she would go so far as to say it made her feel a bit homesick. The swamps she had called home for so many years sat forever frozen in a permanent state of rot. She missed it.

She sighed to herself slipping off her robes. It had been a long day, the battle for the pathetic Circle mages had taken a great deal from her. The Fade had been a harsh and unforgiving place for all of them. She needed to run, to feel the earth from another perspective. The familiar buzz of magic danced over her exposed skin. Coating her body in a static cloud until her hands became paws. She dug them into the cold earth and the night suddenly became alive.

Sounds and smells called for her from a distance and she gladly ran towards them. She needed this, the freedom only this form could give her. She wanted to get as far away from her thoughts as possible. Her thoughts of Rose had grown to an all consuming mass within her head. Watching the young Warden lose her family for a second time was…it was heartbreaking. A feeling Morrigan was not accustomed to.

She dashed between the trees , no destination in mind. She was simply encompassed with an overwhelming desire to run. It was true that shapeshifting did not endow a person with the instincts of an animal but all humans posses a primal side. Her primal desire to run, to feel the cool night air glide over her body was all she cared about in this moment. Thoughts of the Fade, thoughts of rose, even thoughts of Fereldens impending doom left her mind completely.

She ran until her lungs burned, she stopped near a small clearing to recover. Noting the small stream on the opposite end. It made for a nice sight, she willed her legs to move closer. A drink was very much needed. She stalked toward the edge of the tree line, the water looked more enticing with every step.

She stood mere inches from the water line. The fresh earthy scents cascaded around her nose and settled in the back of her throat. It was intoxicating. She dipped her head preparing for the cool stream to wrap around her tongue. The feeling never came, interrupted by the sounds of a distant struggle. The echoes of battle cries and clashing of steel was coming from the direction of camp. She tore off through the forest.

The four of her companions had done a decent job defending the camp from what looked like common bandits. A trail of blood a viscera followed Sten as the giant creature sliced through foe after foe. Alistair was busy facing down what appeared to be a decently trained rouge. The Warden was having enough of a struggle blocking the quick slashes from the bandits daggers. Leliana picked off any that dared to creep up behind the buffoon of a man. Those two truly deserved one another.

Morrigan was reasonable surprised to see that Wyne had a body count of at least three bandits. Even bunnies could kill under the right circumstances. She lunged into the battle growing tired of watching her companions have all the fun. Her teeth sank deep into flesh, a vice grip of throaty snarls until a pulse could no longer be felt. She moved on to her next victim making sure to rip limbs from torso this time. The sickening crunch was nearly therapeutic to her beast ears.

She continued her rampage, claws and teeth finding comfortable homes within the flesh of these intruders. It was a thrilling ride of emotions. It would have been easy to blame it on her form, wolves did love a good kill. Deep down she knew that this was just her nature, all human nature. Her species had been killing since the dawn of their existence…and she was no different. She had lured Templars to their doom the second she learned how to walk. This was no different.

Dropping her latest victims mangled corps to the ground she scanned the battle field looking for more. Rose had her blade sunk deep in the chest of a struggling bandit while she bashed another with her shield. It was a kin to watching someone burst open a Mellon. When the two finally submitted to their injuries and slipped into the void the battle was over. Her body shifted back as the familiar sensation of magic washed over her skin. It always left her feeling rejuvenated. Alistair averted his eyes from her naked form almost instantly. She chuckled as she watched his cheeks turn a bright red. It was made all the better by Lelianas reaction to the mans flustered face.

She was done with this fun it was time to retire to her warm bedding. Preparing to make her exit she locked eyes with Rose, such a big mistake. Her eyes, pools of green, held her own with such intensity she didn't notice that the woman had inched closer. Not until their lips locked. The kiss had caught her off guard, the softness of the Wardens lips was a welcomed feeling. It felt safe having this womans strong hands moving through her hair and down to the small of her back…and then it was gone.

"We leave for Redcliff at dawn." Rose stated to the group, making her way towards her tent.

Morrigan stood there for a moment longer, she could have dreamed the entire encounter. She smiled to herself. She had never tasted a kiss so sweet, dragging a finger over her lips she relived the moment one more time before retiring to her own tent. She had heard the rumors of the Wardens stamina. She had a feeling she would get to test it out for herself at a later date.


End file.
